His fingers splayed over her jaw, tilted her head back so he could better access her mouth. The kiss seemed to go on and on, and yet she knew it had to have been only a matter of seconds before it ended.
She was staring up at him now, her lips stinging, her pulse throbbing in places she’d thought dead and buried until he’d walked into her life just twenty-four hours ago.
Raj was so cool, so unaffected. His golden eyes were hot, but that was the only sign he’d been at all moved by their kiss. He took a step back, his arm looped loosely around her.
“So you’ve found a new victim, I see.”
Veronica turned. Andre smirked at her, a pouty supermodel clinging to his arm. Andre was slick and handsome, as always. But he didn’t move her, not anymore. What she’d once thought was a fun and witty personality was now tarnished and dull.
Or, rather, her eyes had been opened to his true nature.
“Andre. I would say it’s a pleasure to see you again, but we’d both know that was a lie.”
Andre laughed. “It was good while it lasted, no? And just look at you now,” he said. “President of Aliz. However did you pull that one off, darling?”
Veronica refused to rise to the bait. It was what he wanted, but she relished denying him his wish. “The usual way. I ran against the incumbent and the people decided I was the better choice.”
“Ah, yes.” His eyes narrowed. “So much more interesting than motherhood, I would imagine.”
Veronica kept smiling even as a hot dagger of pain twisted in her gut. She wanted to turn into Raj’s chest, hide until Andre was gone, but she would not. She would not give her former lover the satisfaction of reacting.
She’d known he would take the shot. From the moment Raj had told her Andre was here, she’d known what would happen. She could feel Raj’s curiosity sparking, but she had to ignore it. Andre was her problem, not his.
“I believe there are rewards in many things,” she said.
Andre’s gaze flicked to Raj. “Careful, my friend. She’s not at all what she seems. You think she wants what you want, until one day she surprises you by wanting something else. If you’re lucky, you will escape before then.”
Raj’s grip on her waist tightened. “Veronica is an amazing woman,” he said. “Too bad that you couldn’t see it. Good for me, though. So thanks for being an idiot.”
Warmth flooded her. She knew he was only playing a part, but she was still grateful to him for saying it. He could have said nothing, but he’d chosen to defend her. When was the last time anyone had done so?
She’d been so devastated after she’d lost the baby. And yes, she’d turned to Andre, thinking he might feel her pain, too. But he hadn’t cared one bit. He’d considered it a lucky escape.
Andre’s smile was patently false. “Suit yourself,” he said. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Then he turned and walked away, the model trotting along dutifully.
Veronica let out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. It had gone better than she’d expected, though perhaps she should have realized that Andre would never make a scene. It simply wasn’t his style to get overly worked up about anything.
“What did you ever see in that guy?”
She met Raj’s critical gaze. He looked at her as if she’d grown a second head and he was trying to reconcile it. Veronica shrugged self-consciously. “He was charming when we first met. We had fun together.”
Belatedly, she pulled out of Raj’s grip, the memory of their kiss still sizzling into her brain. He let her go easily enough, and it made her wonder if she was the only one who’d been affected by the contact. That kiss had stripped away all her barriers while it lasted. It had scorched her to the depths of her soul.
Raj, however, looked completely cool and controlled. As if it had meant nothing to him.
Veronica lifted her chin. She was tired and she’d had enough for tonight. Enough with pretense and drama. Enough with being Madam President. She’d done what she came to do. “I’m ready to leave now.”
To his credit, Raj only said, “I had thought you might be.”
It took a while to say her goodbyes, but eventually they were in the foyer and Raj was helping her into her coat while her bodyguard stood by. She’d assumed he would put her into the car and follow separately, but he climbed into the warm interior with her. The guard went into the front seat, and then they were rolling away from Mayfair, the darkened London streets still alive with sound and traffic even at this late hour.
The kilometers ticked by in silence, other than the street sounds coming from outside. Veronica turned her head and watched as snow drifted silently down. She thought about making small talk, but could suddenly think of nothing to say.
“You will have to tell me eventually,” Raj said, his voice like the crack of a gun in the silent car, though he spoke in a normal tone. It was the sound coming after so much silence that startled her and made her lift a shaking hand to her throat to fuss with her scarf.
“Tell you what?” she managed to respond. Her voice was even. Calm. She was proud of that.
Raj’s fingers suddenly threaded into hers, closed tightly. They both wore gloves, but the pressure of his grip was warm, soothing. Comforting.
He squeezed softly, as if he were imparting strength. “About the baby.”
SHE didn’t say anything for so long that he wondered if she’d heard him. But of course she had. She sat stiffly, her head still turned away from him. In the light of one of the buildings they passed, he saw her throat move.
Raj pulled off his glove and put his fingers against her cheek. She turned to him, her eyes filled with tears. His fingers were wet and his heart constricted at the pain on her face.
“I don’t want to talk about this with you,” she said, her voice barely more than a whisper.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly. He didn’t want to push her, and yet he had to know. “But it could be important.”
She closed her eyes, shook her head slightly. Her platinum hair gleamed in the dim light, and he thought of her last night, standing by her bed and calling for him. How vulnerable she’d looked, how innocent. Such a contrast with the woman he’d gotten acquainted with on paper.
Her chin dropped, as if she were surrendering. He found a box of tissues in a nearby compartment and handed them to her. She snatched a few into her hand and dabbed at her face.
“How can it be important?” she finally said. “No one really knows about it.”
“Someone does. Andre does.”
She sucked in a breath on a half sob. “Of course he knows. He was the father.”
Somehow, though he’d expected it, that news sliced through his gut like a sword. He didn’t want to think of Veronica with Andre Girard, didn’t want to imagine that she could have loved the man once. But she must have done so.
“Was he angry?” He still didn’t quite know what they were talking about, but he could tease the details from her if he worked gently enough.
Her laugh was bitter. “Angry? God, no. More like relieved. He didn’t want a child, so he’s not in the least bit upset there isn’t one.”